


there is a light that never goes out

by ikuzonos



Category: Dangan Ronpa, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: AU, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Lowercase, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 18:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11469201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikuzonos/pseuds/ikuzonos
Summary: all the things you said are coming back to haunt us.[major endgame ndrv3 spoilers]





	there is a light that never goes out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gonta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonta/gifts), [idaate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idaate/gifts), [soniagiris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soniagiris/gifts), [youriko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youriko/gifts).



**i. saihoshi - things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear**

on bad nights, hoshi looks up at the ceiling and tells himself that he doesn’t have to stay alive much longer. he counts every crease in the carpet and promises to drink the bleach under the sink. he rubs his eyes, and the phosphenes make him dizzy.

there are three bedrooms in this apartment. at times, hoshi is glad for the separation, because it means that saihara and chabashira don’t have to witness his insomniac habits. on nights like these, it makes him feel lonelier than ever.

he hates living here. (he hates being alive in general, but that’s something he’ll never shake.) the apartment has the team _Dangan Ronpa_ seal of approval on it, and it makes him feel as if there are eyes in every corner of the rooms.

survivors make for good media coverage, even if they’re dead inside.

hoshi throws the blanket off. he slides off the bed and onto the floor in a heap, then trudges out of his room and into the hallway.

sitting in the darkness is the cat. the cat wandered in through the window a few weeks ago, and decided that he liked the apartment. none of them can decide what to call the cat, so each of them have a different name for him. hoshi calls him yorick, saihara calls him holmes, and chabashira, for some reason that hoshi can’t fathom, insists on calling him rabbit.

hoshi scratches yorick behind the ears as he walks by.

moonlight shines in through the window that stands over the sink. hoshi stands on the cold tile and shuts his eyes. he doesn’t understand how he’s managed to live this long.

of all the people who were accepted onto season fifty-three of _Dangan Ronpa,_ none of them wanted to die more than hoshi himself. unfortunately, he was one of exactly three to survive. really, it should have been anyone but him.

ouma, harukawa, shinguuji, or hell, even shirogane would be better fits. his fists close tightly.

(he knows that saihara and chabashira still dream about blonde heroines who attempted murder, who they think belong here instead of him.)

(they’re right.)

hoshi sighs softly, “if i could, i’d go back and die right away. i really didn’t have anything to live for.”

the girl he hoped to see again had already passed in a car crash.

holmes brushes against hoshi’s leg. he lightly strokes the small animal.

there’s a creak from the polyester couch. hoshi looks over to see saihara’s face poking over, looking nervous and uncomfortable.

“…ah,” hoshi murmurs, then asks, “how long have you been there?”

saihara responds, “some time now. i… had a nightmare, so i sat out here with tenko-san. she’s off buying us some green tea now.”

that’s just like chabashira. even though they’re ‘stupid boys,’ she’s determined to take care of everyone else before herself.

“i’m glad that you made it,” saihara adds suddenly, “i don’t think that tenko-san and i could have got to this point without you. i know that i wouldn’t have.”

hoshi snorts, “thanks. i appreciate it.”

they don’t speak again until chabashira returns with three plastic bags full of tea and a packet of cat treats for rabbit.

 

**ii. oumota - things you said after it was over**

dry skin lingers in between kaito’s teeth. his tongue flicks across them, feeling every tight bit of flesh. if he applies too much pressure, he can taste blood. 

virtual reality simulation or not, he was ill before the killing game that ended his life.

it’s been one year since the death of _Dangan Ronpa_ , but kaito hasn’t forgotten about it yet. his old room is littered with posters of men with carrot orange hair and girls with silver eyes. somehow, he hasn’t found the courage to burn them quite yet, especially now that they’re collectors pieces.

he should hate _Dangan Ronpa._ it killed him, after all, him and hundreds of others. yet it somehow still has a place in his malfunctioning heart.

kaito knocks on the door.

for the past hour and a half, he’s stood on a concrete porch, working up the courage to let the owner know that he’s there.

“this was stupid,” he mutters, after two minutes, “i shouldn’t have come here.”

kaito turns away, when the door swings open, crooked on its hinges. he turns again, looking down at the tiny boy, right in his red eyes.

kokichi ouma looks even sicker than he did the day that he awoke from the simulation.

“h-hi, momota-san,” ouma speaks like a wounded deer, “would you like to come in?”

kaito swallows the bile that’s risen to his mouth, “yeah, yeah that’d be great.

ouma moves to the side, his soft white hair shifting in the slight breeze. kaito walks inside, kicking off his shoes on the indoor mat. the shorter boy closes the door behind them, then begins walking towards a room near the end of the hall. kaito follows him mindlessly.

the two sit down in soft armchairs. kaito silently appreciates the beautiful room - gorgeous oak bookshelves filled to the brim, regal carpets and curtains, and a huge window that peers over a well maintained garden - when ouma speaks.

“how did… how did you find me?”

kaito replies, “i heard it from amami.”

(he’d met amami thanks to yonaga whom he saw because of yumeno because harukawa emailed him the phony mage’s address)

ouma bites down on his lip, “o-oh. okay. is, um, anything new with you?”

“i didn’t come here to talk about myself,” kaito snaps, then realizes his mistake when ouma flinches. he quietly adds, “i sought you out to say sorry. or… or something.”

ouma taps on the armchair, “why?”

kaito deflates, “i don’t know.”

silence. the room is hot and stifling.

“and here i thought that you came to say something romantic,” ouma says, showing a gleam of his simulation self, “like… that you couldn’t stay away from me any longer. you couldn’t resist me, could you?”

kaito thinks for a moment, then says, “maybe not as romantic as you wanted… but i figured you should know that, well, i’m glad that i met you. even if you are… peculiar.”

“oh! that was a lie just now, wasn’t it, momota-san?” ouma laughs gleefully, “n-nobody could ever be glad that they met me!”

kaito doesn’t say a word, because all he can see is the hydraulic press coming closer and closer until it crushes them both.

ouma coughs, then asks weakly, “would you like some mochi?”

“sure,” kaito says, exhausted, “why the hell not?”

he doesn’t have anything else to do today (or for the rest of his life) anyways.

 

**iii. kaehara - things you didn’t say at all**

tears shine in his eyes as saihara hands kaede a bouquet. she seems to love it, but saihara isn’t entirely sure. kaede doesn’t actually speak to him very much anymore. it’s okay, though. he’s learned to do the talking for the both of them/

he sits down next to her, brushing away the dirt near his hands. it’s been six days since he last saw her. quietly, saihara begins to talk. he tells kaede about his day, talks about the weather, and mentions what he’s planning to do next weekend. for the first time since he was nine, he’s going to go to the beach, at yumeno’s insistence.

saihara hates the beach, but he’s willing to do just about anything for his friends at this point.

“akamatsu-san,” he says, “yesterday, i learned how to brown meat in a pan, and then i made dinner. yumeno-san thought it was delicious. harukawa-san didn’t agree, though, but she doesn’t do much besides argue with us anyways. i think it makes her feel better.”

kaede smiles, holding her daffodils close to her chest. saihara stretches his arm out, adjusting one of the droopy flowers. it seems that in every bouquet he buys for her, there is one single flower that refuses to stay standing. he supposes that he’s similar to that flower in a way. he was always the weak link, back in the killing game.

the bouquet slumps against kaede’s grave.

saihara lies down on the grass, looking up at the barely clouded sky. it’s late march, meaning that the cherry blossom trees will soon ignite in colour. (it also means that kaede’s birthday is coming up, but he doesn’t think about that, not ever.)

he thinks that even if she was still alive, he would be in the same place in regards to how much they talk. they bonded quickly because of team _Dangan Ronpa’s_ brainwashing abilities. it was all for television ratings, saihara knows this. part of him thinks that he doesn’t love her, but the rest of him comes to the graveyard every week with another expensive bouquet.

sometimes, at night, he dreams about the library. and every time he shows her the secret door and sees her eyes absolutely shine, he wishes that he could kiss her right then and there. but he never does, because he knows by the way she carries herself, by how she smiles at everyone, by the words that are on the tip of her lips but never says that she absolutely does not and would never love him.

saihara always wakes just after that, his brow coated in sweat and snot dripping down his face.

a drop of rain falls on his hand. saihara gets to his feet slowly, staring at kaede’s headstone the whole way. he murmurs, “i’ll see you next week.”

for a single, terrifying moment, he swears that she responds.

 

**iv. shiromaki - things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear**

it’s the early hours of the morning when the voice travels up through the vents into maki’s room, rousing her from a less than stellar sleep. she’s wide awake in moments, when the realization hits her. the room directly below her belongs to kirumi toujou, who - as of sixteen and a half ago - was executed.

maki crawls over to the vents on her knees and presses her ear to the slats. warm air blows into it, distorting the voice below, but if maki focuses, she can hear it. it’s a girl’s voice - or _maybe_ saihara’s, though it’s too high pitched, even for him - but maki isn’t entirely sure which one of them it belongs to.

“-edit the script,” says the voice below, “unless i… no, too risky.”

maki frowns, running the names through her head quickly, then murmurs, “shirogane?”

as far as she can tell, the blue haired girl must be the one below her. but that of course begs the question of ‘what is she doing in toujou’s room?’ along with ‘how did she get inside?’

she presses her ear closer, straining to hear shirogane.

“why did it have to be harukawa-san of all people…” she huffs, “i purposely set her up to be _terrible,_ and…”

maki’s heart rises up her throat. nothing that shirogane is saying makes any sense, and her stomach is twisting.

shirogane screams softly, then repeats, “you’re the mastermind. you’re the _mastermind._ you are not going to go soft after all of this!”

…ah.

maki shoves her fingernails into her thighs. blood runs out of her mouth and drips onto the ground. it takes all her might to not violently throw up all over the floor.

shirogane continues to talk to herself, “what if i talked to her? if i stop her from getting to close to him, then maybe… maybe she’ll…”

maki tears away from the vent in the wall. she backs away rapidly, sitting on the floor and holding her head in her hands. she doesn’t move for ages, not until a light knock on the door breaks her out of her trance.

carefully, maki gets to her feet. she opens the door just a crack, then slightly wider at the sight of shirogane.

(she shouldn’t she shouldn’t she shouldn’t)

“what do you want?” she asks.

shirogane seems to have genuine warmth in her eyes, despite how blank her expressions usually are. she bounces in place, looking excited to see her.

maki’s heart skips a beat.

(she’s not some shoujen anime love interest why is this _happening)_

“i’m really sorry to bother you,” shirogane says carefully, “but i wanted to… well… see you! i was worried about how well you were holding up.”

she can’t fathom why the _hell_ she smiles, but she does and it terrifies her. tsumugi shirogane is the mastermind behind their situation, and all maki is doing is falling for her.

maki curses herself internally as she speaks.

“thank you… i didn’t think that anyone would be thinking about me.”

shirogane beams at her, and for some godforsaken reason, maki reaches out and takes her hand.

to hell with it. nobody in the outside world cares about her, so she might as well embrace the one person in existence who does.

**Author's Note:**

> daffodils symbolize new beginnings


End file.
